


The Things We Never Mention

by JinxedAmbitions



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drug Dependence, End!verse, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mostly mountains of angst, Oral Sex, Rimming, Violence, some gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JinxedAmbitions/pseuds/JinxedAmbitions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They never talked about the last bit of Grace Cas had to lose.  No matter how strained things got, neither had the fortitude to bring up that day months ago, or maybe it was years.  Even if they weren't willing to speak of it, they both still remembered it as though it was yesterday.  Dean lived with the burden of his actions, while Cas spiraled further and further into the mire of human decadence.  Neither was willing to admit that they couldn't leave this world without the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Never Mention

It was back in the early days of the outbreak. No one really had a full understanding of the scope of the pandemic, and camps weren't as orderly as they would become. So, supply runs were casual affairs where several pairs would go out to specific places and collect what was needed. Dean wasn't in charge back then. He and Cas had only joined the camp weeks earlier—just before Bobby's death— and people were still feeling them out. Everyone except Chuck, who was so happy to see familiar faces that he actually tried to hug Dean when he'd pulled the Impala up to the gates. The car was so battered from the trek out to Camp Chitaqua that he knew he'd never be driving her again.

This day started as many did at that point in time. Dean woke Cas with lazy caresses to his bare abdomen. The former angel wasn't easy to wake. He much preferred to sleep until he no longer felt it tugging him back, especially when they were somewhere safe enough to sleep more than an hour at a time. However, rising early was bred into Dean as much as hunting was. So, when Dean became tired of lying in bed waiting for Cas to wake up, so they could go grab breakfast, Dean would take matters into his own hands.

It started with running his fingers lightly over Cas' exposed belly which usually received a slight hitch in breath and a lazy arm pushing his hands away. This only encouraged Dean to lean down an nip at Cas' nipples then sooth them with a stroke of his tongue when Cas squirmed. Dean then ran his rough cheeks down Cas' abdomen which caused goosebumps to rise on Cas' skin, and Cas moaned softly though he didn't fully wake. Dean smirked as he pulled the covers off their bodies and spread Cas' legs, so he could kneel between them.

Dean enjoyed these wake up sessions more than he would admit. Ever since they had made their relationship physical, after news of Detroit, Cas seemed to have a very detached view of sex. He was an excellent lover, but he approached it with the same determination and resolve as he did battle. Though this had faded somewhat as Cas became more and more human, it was in these early morning moments that Cas forgot himself and let himself be completely taken by sensation.

Dean nuzzled Cas' spread thighs with his cheeks causing the sensitive flesh to flush from his stubble. Even this didn't bring Cas out of his dreams, though the way he writhed on the bed led Dean to believe that they were very good dreams. Dean took a moment to enjoy the sight of Castiel, former Angel of the Lord, laid out before him, panting through a pleasant dream that Dean's actions had conjured. Once he captured the image in his mind to bring out on lonely watch shifts, Dean bent between Cas' legs. He passed Cas' cock without as much as a caress, and he lifted Cas' balls with gentle fingers. Then with a knowing smirk Dean ran his tongue over Cas' hole. He could see Cas' eye shoot wide open as soon as his tongue laved over the sensitive pucker, and he cherished the strangled moan it wrenched from Cas' throat. It never failed to wake Cas up.

Dean continued to run his tongue over Cas' hole, dipping in as Cas came undone quickly. When Cas was mumbling incoherently and fisting his hands in Dean's hair, Dean pulled up and looked into Cas' lust blown eyes. He smirked as he pulled Cas' hips into his lap and bent his head to take Cas' cock in his mouth. Cas bit his own arm to keep from calling out as Dean swallowed him down with ease. It was then that someone pounded on the door to their cabin.

“Meeting in the main cabin in five minutes,” Risa's voice called through the door. Cas' cock was still in Dean's mouth, but they both looked expectantly at the door. When Risa didn't barge in, Dean went back to what he was doing with enthusiasm. Cas, however, pulled his head away with a deep sigh.

“We do not have enough time to finish and make it to the meeting on time. We'll have other mornings once we're settled here,” Cas said as he pulled Dean up to lie on top of him. Dean kissed him roughly before pushing himself up and off the bed to find them clothes to wear.

It was Dean and Cas' first supply run for the camp. Dean had actually been paired with Risa and Castiel with another member of the camp, but Dean had set them straight right away. “Cas and I go together or we don't go at all. You don't trust us? That's fine, but I don't trust any of you either, and I'm not having someone I barely know watch my back,” Dean practically growled as the group convened in one of communal cabins. Cas stood to the back of the cabin, eyes ever alert.

“I don't care about your special needs, Winchester. You're going to get used to how we do things, or you and your sidekick can leave,” David, who was in charge, replied with an air of authority that caused Cas to roll his eyes.

“Special needs? I've been in this life since I was four years old, Dave. The only reason I'm still alive is because I only work with people I trust, and there is exactly one person in this room that I trust,” Dean said as he stepped into David's personal space. Dean was taller, but David was a bulkier man. He had a shaved head and dark goatee that pissed Dean off for no reason. He was a formidable opponent, but Dean wasn't about to back down.

“Fine, you two have so much experience with this sort of thing? You can raid the precinct on the north side of the city,” David said with a triumphant smirk. It was not an ideal mission. The cities were crawling with croats, and police stations had so many reinforced doors. While they were good at keeping croats out, they were also good at keeping people out...with the infected.

“That's suicide, David! We weren't even planning on hitting that, never mind with only two people,” Risa argued as she tried to step into the middle of the argument.

“We need ammunition. Unless you want to go on runs with nothing but your bowie knife, we're going to need it soon. They want to show us that we can depend them, then this is how they do it,” David said without breaking eye contact with Dean. Dean growled and opened his mouth to fight some more, but Castiel beat him to it.

“We'll do it,” Cas said simply as he watched the small group with a disinterested expression. Dean bit his lip, but he said nothing. He took a step back from David, and sent Cas a level glare.

David retreated as well and handed out the rest of the assignments. Everyone filed out of the cabin, but Dean and Cas hung back. “Why did you agree to that?” Dean asked harshly as soon as they were alone.

“Fighting with them constantly is not going to relieve the tension. They aren't hunters, Dean. They weren't raised in this life. They're scared and doing the best they can to survive. Distrust is a mechanism of survival, one you are well acquainted with,” Cas said calmly as he walked past Dean toward the door.

“This is suicide,” Dean argued as he followed closely behind.

“We've faced worse with less before we got here,” Cas said with a shrug. He turned to Dean before leaving the cabin. “You know that any supply run is dangerous. If it's too easy, you get sloppy. We'll be ready for this, alert,” he said as he rested his right hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean shook his head, but he couldn't keep an affectionate smile at bay. Cas never lost faith in them.

***

They pulled up to the precinct at midday. The jeep was louder than either of them would have preferred, but it was the best vehicle they had for the job, now that the Impala was out of commission. Castiel scanned the area while Dean killed the engine and checked his weapon. “You ready?” Dean asked as he looked across the front seat at Cas. The former angel looked like he hadn't slept or showered in a week. He was sporting enough stubble to soon be called a beard, and his clothes were filthy from lack of washing. Cas' eyes met Dean's, and they were as clear as a crisp spring morning. Cas nodded, and they spoke a thousand reassurances with their shared look before stepping out of the vehicle and hurrying toward the back door of the precinct.

Cas covered Dean as he picked the lock on the outer door. They were both grateful that they had yet to encounter any croats, because one always led to twenty or thirty. It had been a rough week, and both men just wanted to get in, get the munitions, and get back to camp. “We're in,” Dean whispered as he quickly put his picks away and checked his weapon again before throwing the door open, just hard enough to get an immediate view of the room, but not enough to slam against the wall.

The room was empty, so both men slipped inside and closed the door firmly behind them. Cas made sure that the door was locked to the outside but not the inside while Dean cleared the room. “The plans said the armory would be on the lower level, third door on the left, down the stairs, the room to the right of the stairs is our target. It's main locks should be down since there isn't any power, but you'll have to pick the manual locks,” Castiel instructed also in a whisper. Dean knew the plan and layout just as well as Castiel, but it was habit that Cas said it one last time when they reached their destination. It comforted Cas to have a plan, and Cas' voice steadied Dean.

They cleared the first floor entirely, working fluidly as a team, before they returned to the door that led to the stairs. Dean tried the handle, and it gave easily. “It's open,” he said to let Cas know they were moving forward, then he pushed into the stairwell. Cas made sure that they wouldn't be locked in while Dean cleared the stairs leading up to the second floor. Then they made their way down the half-flight to the lower level. They swept through the area filled with holding cells to find some of them still held bodies. A few of those bodies still had gnashing teeth and limbs they pushed through the bars to try to grab at Dean and Cas. As soon as they were sure that none were getting out, they hightailed it back to the armory.

Cas covered Dean again as he unlocked the munitions room. “In,” Dean said as he pushed the door open, and Cas turned to cover him. The room was clear, and Dean pulled the duffel bags from where they were strapped across his chest. Cas moved to the left wall and started picking the lock on the shotgun case. Dean raided the ammunition cabinet while Cas inspected the weapons and chose which ones would be most useful and transportable.

They worked as a perfect team, always knowing where the other was while efficiently completing their task. “Time?” Dean asked over his shoulder while he lifted the duffel to see how heavy it was before adding more boxes of bullets and shells.

“We've been here six minutes and forty-two seconds,” Cas replied as he glanced at the watch Dean had given him after the world went to hell.

“Let's pack it up. Don't want to push our luck,” Dean said as he closed the closet. Cas did the same, but he turned to the case on the opposite wall. “We can get them next time,” Dean said as he looked at the semi-automatic rifles waiting in the case.

“I've got room in the bag, and you've got the clips. It would be a waste not to,” Cas said, and Dean pushed him out of the way. Dean picked the lock in half the time it would've taken Cas, and they each grabbed a pair of rifles and shoved them into Cas' bag. They left the room in the opposite formation as they had entered. Dean opened the door, and Cas stepped forward doing the initial sweep. They headed back up the stairs and peaked through the glass in the door to see the main floor. Cas nodded before he stepped through the doorway. They made sure that no croats were on either end of the hall before heading for the door they had entered through. They walked briskly, and Dean kept sweeping behind them. Cas stopped short before be opened the door to the back room. “Back window wasn't broken when we entered,” he said in a hush as Dean collided with his back. Dean looked at it thoughtfully. Surely, they would've heard something if it had just been broken.

Just then, a bloody face appeared on the other side of the glass. “Fuck, push through or find another way out?” Dean asked immediately.

“Up a floor, and get a view of the car,” Cas said as they were already moving away from the door. They heard the glass break behind them as they sprinted back toward the stairwell. They shut the door firmly.

“Does it lock?” Dean asked Cas as he swept the stairs and lower level again. Dean heard Cas grunt and spun to see the door handle slightly melted and Cas panting.

“It does now,” Cas said as he readjusted the strap of the duffel bag and started up the stairs.

“Dude, was that a good idea? I mean, you've barely got any mojo left as it is,” Dean said as he let Cas take point while he followed. Dean looked out the window in the stairwell. It was facing the wrong direction, but he didn't see any croats wandering around which was good news.

“It was, unless you would rather start firing that weapon with us trapped in here,” Cas replied as they reached the second floor. They could hear thumps coming from the door on the first floor, and it set their nerves further on edge. Cas tested the door, and found it to be unlocked as well. He pulled it open, and let Dean take the lead. They swept through the floor as quickly as they could while still being thorough.

“How do they not have a second stairwell to the second floor? This is a police station. What happened to emergency exits?” Dean groused as they stood in the main office that was full of abandoned desks. The whole floor was eerily still very tidy as though everyone had filed out in organized lines and never returned.

“Perhaps the lower level, past the armory?”

“Nah, there was nothing but cells down there full of croats.”

“The ladder to the—” Cas cut off as he was grabbed from behind. Teeth sank deeply into his forearm before either he or Dean really knew what was happening. Cas didn't so much as make a sound as he felt teeth tear through tendons and muscle. Neither knew where the croat came from, but they didn't much care either as they took action.

Dean pulled his machete from his jacket as he tucked his gun into his thigh holster. He heaved the long blade down across the monster's exposed neck with such force that it nearly took its head clean off. Without hesitation, Dead pried the dead man's jaws from Cas' flesh and pulled Cas back the way they'd come. “Roof,” he said as he kicked through the door to the stairway with Cas stumbling behind him. He pushed Cas up the ladder as he made sure that nothing was following them. He heard a loud crack from the floor below them and peered over the rail just in time to see the door give way. “Hurry up,” Dean said as he scrambled up the ladder behind Cas.

Cas pried the hatch open with an agonized cry, and the pair hurried out onto the roof as they heard several sets of feet bounding up to the second floor. Dean threw the hatch closed while Cas stumbled around looking for something to weigh it down. “Fuck it, Cas. See if there are any roof tops we can jump to,” Dean called to him as he felt pressure beneath him.

“Fire escape,” Cas panted from the other side of the building. “Alley looks clear,” he noted as he continued to look down into it.

“Okay, you head down. I'm going to let the hatch go in ten seconds and then sprint like hell. Car's on the north side of the building so go right when you get to the bottom. I'm right behind you,” Dean said as he watched Cas. Cas didn't say anything as he gingerly stepped down onto the fire escape. He took the stairs as quickly as he could while losing a lot of blood. He was two thirds of the way down when Dean hit the top and came roaring after him.

Dean took Cas' good arm over his shoulder when he jumped down beside him. Cas was stunned both from the blood loss and the final jump off the ladder, but he ran with Dean as fast as he could. “Gonna be okay, Cas,” Dean muttered as they took the corner of the building at a sprint. Dean was firing his gun before Cas even had a steady image in front of him. Several croats were coming at them. Castiel pulled free of Dean and used his angel blade to take out the closest creature. They continued to run toward the car, and Cas lodged the blade deep into the base of another croat's skull before Dean was manhandling him into the passenger seat of the jeep. Then Dean ducked around to the driver's seat, shooting at a pair of croats that stepped out of the building.

The engine roared to life, and Dean didn't wait to get a look at their surroundings before he threw the car into gear and peeled out of the station. Cas was preoccupied with wrapping his belt around his arm, right below his elbow, and pulling it as tight as he could. “I did not see it ending like this,” Cas groaned as he secured the belt and slumped in the seat.

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean growled as they sped through the outskirts of the city avoiding croats when they sprinted into the road.

“Dean, you have to either drop me somewhere or shoot me. You can't take me back to camp,” Cas said steadily as he reached into the back where they kept some medical supplies.

“Like hell, I'm leaving you. We'll find someplace to stay and assess the damage,” Dean said, leaving little room for argument. That didn't stop Cas from being the rational voice.

“There is no damage to assess. That thing nearly took off my arm. I'm infected. Either you kill me, or you risk me taking you with me,” Cas said as he applied pressure to the wound. The bleeding had slowed, but he wasn't sure if it was from the tourniquet or blood loss.

“I thought I told you to shut up,” Dean growled as he pulled out onto the highway. Castiel rolled his eyes but focused all his energy on staying awake, because he feared that if he succumbed to the fog in his head that he would hurt Dean. That was something he couldn't bear. He could face an undignified, bloody death, but his last act would not jeopardize Dean.

They drove for about twenty minutes in the opposite direction of the camp. Dean didn't want to be caught by one of the random patrols if they ventured too close to the camp. The others would have no trouble putting a bullet through Cas' brain if they saw his arm. It was probably exactly what he should have done, because he knew he couldn't kill Cas himself. He wasn't even sure that he could put a bullet into the head of the thing that Cas was going to become. He didn't care how blood thirsty the thing was, it would still be wearing Cas' fathomless eyes, Cas' strong body.

They pulled off the main road, and Dean drove them out into the country where the houses were spaced enough that there shouldn't be a great deal of infected wandering. He pulled onto a farm that had a grain silo, drove right up to it, and killed the engine. He did a sweep of the area while Cas pulled himself out of the car. Cas straightened up and held his weapon in his good hand. He walked up to the silo and tried the door. “It's locked, Dean,” Cas called as he leaned against the wall beside the door. Dean jogged over and removed his lock picks from his jacket. His hands were shaking as he tried to unlock it. “Take a breath. I'm still right here,” Cas said as he put a steadying hand on Dean's forearm. Dean gritted his teeth then unlocked the door with little difficulty. Dean was knocked back as the door came swinging open. Cas had his gun at the croat's temple before it was fully out the door, and the shot rang out bouncing off the inner walls of the silo.

The body fell to the ground with a thud, and Cas looked at it with the detached stare Dean had come to associate with the former angel. Cas stepped in front of the doorway and gazed into the silo to see if it held anyone else. “There are other bodies, but they seem to be in too many pieces to be of much threat. Grab the ax just in case,” Cas said as Dean dusted himself off. He turned to the jeep and pulled the sturdy fireman's ax out from under the back seat. Cas took the machete as Dean hefted the ax when they entered. Cas shined a flashlight around the dark container then over the bodies on the floor.

Dean cringed at the carnage, and they used their weapons to ensure than nothing was still living to some extent. “Guess they locked themselves in hoping to keep the croats out,” Dean said once they cleared every crack and crevice of the silo.

“Locked themselves in with it instead,” Castiel agreed as he took a seat on the dirt floor. He leaned against the wall and kept his weapons within arms reach. “This is a foolish plan, Dean. It's only a matter of hours before I'm just like that man out there was,” Cas said as he inspected his arm.

“Can we just talk about something else for a while?” Dean asked as he knelt beside Cas and took his injured arm in his hands. He cut the bloody sleeve of Cas' shirt away without comment and inspected the wound without touching it. He could see the muscle through the torn skin, and he was surprised Cas had any use of the arm. He turned and rifled through the small bag of medical supplies that he had swapped the ammo bag for. He pull on a pair of latex gloves before turning back and giving Cas a cocky smile. “Up for a bit of nurse roleplay?” he asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Cas chuckled and held out his arm for Dean to take again. Dean cleaned the wound with a canteen of water and some baby wipes. When the blood was washed away, he inspected it again and sighed before rummaging for a needle and floss. “Do not waste medical supplies or time stitching me up, Dean,” Castiel warned as he saw what Dean was gathering.

“Just let—”

“You cannot waste necessary supplies just to comfort yourself that you did everything to save me. You have to let me go, Dean. Shoot me before I can't hold it off any longer, and I attack you. Shoot me before we turn into this family,” he said as he gestured to the mutilated bodies surrounding them. “Shooting me in the head will be much more humane than stitching me up and watching me devolve into some blood thirsty monster,” Cas' tone was gentler this time, because he could see the agony in Dean's eyes. Eyes that wouldn't leave the oozing bite on Cas' forearm.

“Maybe it doesn't affect angels, Grace or not,” Dean countered as he continued to hold Cas's arm with gentle hands.

“Dean, I can feel it taking hold of me,” Cas said firmly as he pulled his arm away from Dean's grasp. He picked up the gun beside himself and held it out to Dean. “If it was someone else at camp, you wouldn't hesitate. You can't hesitate now.”

Dean took the gun from Cas' hand, but laced the fingers of his free hand with Cas'. He held Cas' hand tightly as he raised the gun to his temple. He took a steadying breath and switched the safety off. He finally looked up into Castiel's eyes and what little resolve he had cracked. “I can't, Cas. I can't lose you too. You're all I have left, man,” Dean said, his voice raw with emotion. “I've lost Sam and Bobby...Ellen, Jo. I've lost everyone I've ever cared about. I can't lose you too. Not like this. I'm sorry,” Dean choked on the words as he lowered the gun to his lap, safety back on.

Dean looked up when Castiel squeezed his hand firmly. “Dean, you have to do this. Do it or lock me in here alone and let me die in solitude where I know I can't hurt you,” Cas spoke firmly though there was pain lingering behind every word. Dean got to his feet and paced the container agitatedly. Thoughts raced through his head as he walked. Memories of parting ways with Sammy, the day he found Bobby dead, the fire all rushed through his mind until he stepped in front of Castiel and looked down at the defeated man.

“You're asking me to put a bullet in the skull of the only man I've ever loved, and you expect me to be able to do it?”

“Bobby killed his wife...twice,” Castiel retorted as he tried to ignore the impact Dean's words had on him. Castiel had never heard Dean say the word love, never mind apply it to him. Certainly, Dean had loved Sam and even Bobby, but Cas had never assumed that that feeling extended to him, no matter how intimate they had become.

“Yeah, and it turned him into a bitter old drunk who was haunted by her memory till the day he died,” Dean argued as he towered over Cas' prone form.

“It's the apocalypse, Dean. We're all bitter and haunted,” Cas said sourly.

“Did you not get the part where I said I love you and can't let you go?” Dean asked as he sank to his knees in front of Cas and fisted his hands in the material of his shirt.

“Love isn't going to fix me,” Cas said seriously as he studied Dean's face. Dean didn't respond as he pulled Cas in to a desperate kiss. It was sloppy as Cas put aside his protests and returned the kiss with fervor. He grabbed at the hair at the nape of Dean's neck to pull him closer, until Dean lost his balance and sat straddling Cas' lap. Dean nipped at his bottom lip, and his tongue snaked in between Cas' slack lips as he moaned. “This isn't going to change anything, Dean,” Cas panted when they broke apart. Their foreheads were pressed together and they could both see Cas' mangled arm resting at his side.

Dean cursed as he buried his face in Cas' neck. Cas used his good arm to rub Dean's back. He understood how Dean felt. He knew that if he let himself, he would be overcome by the same emotions, but Castiel needed to keep his head about him. Dean's life, if not his own, depended on it. It would be enough to carry this moment of intimacy into the next life, even if he couldn't allow himself to breakdown as Dean finally did. Cas could feel the weight of Bobby, Sam, John, Ellen, Jo, and all the others weighing on Dean's shoulders with every struggled breath he took.

“Don't leave me, man. Don't abandon me at the end of days. Not you,” Dean pleaded as he leaned back to look into Castiel's pain clouded eyes. Castiel's chest tightened as he recalled the fragments of a soul he had to piece together in Hell, how he'd fallen in love with each broken piece of the Righteous Man. It was his Grace that held Dean together then, when the burden of all those tortured souls weighed on Dean's very essence. Cas held him together even as the fires licked at his wings and forces of Heaven and Hell clashed around him. In the months of his drawn out fall, he had never hated his dwindling powers as much as now, with Dean's green eyes looking for even a hint of hope in Cas. “I need you, Cas.”

“I'd never leave you by choice, Dean,” Cas said with a strengthening resolve as he carded his fingers through Dean's hair. He looked deep within himself for the threads of Grace that were sewn into his every atom. The threads that were so deeply embedded that they were hard to distinguish from the vessel they clung to. “You look exhausted. You should tie me up before you fall asleep,” Cas said as he pulled Dean in for another kiss. This one was softer than the last, just a press of chapped lips to Dean's supple ones. Dean didn't say anything as he pulled rope and bindings out of the medical supply bag. He tied Cas up, careful to avoid putting pressure on the wound itself.

When he was finished, Dean pressed a kiss into Cas' temple then took a seat several paces away. He took Cas' weapons with him and laid them next to himself as he sat. They were quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Dean turned to Cas after an extended silence, his eyes full of regret. “I'm sorry I got you into this. I'm sorry I've fucked it all up. Sayin' no to Michael, your fall, all of it. I'm sorry I was so blind, and that you were the one it hurt most,” he apologized as he stripped and cleaned Cas' gun. His movements were mechanical, but Cas could see that their familiarity soothed Dean's frayed nerves.

“I do not blame you for any of this, and you should not either. I said that we would take this run. I was the one who left himself open to attack. I'm the one who chose to rebel against heaven. You've been my friend through it all,” Cas said as he tried to focus his meager energies toward healing.

Dean didn't respond, choosing to avoid making their final words to each other an argument. Instead, he used the supply duffel as a pillow and reclined against it, watching Cas in silence till he drifted off to sleep.

Dean woke hours later. He couldn't see anything in the dark of the silo until he turned on his flashlight and pointed it to where Cas had been sitting. He had expected to see bloodshot eyes filled with impenetrable rage, but all he saw were the ropes he'd tied Cas up with lying on the ground. Dean spun looking for where the monster could be hiding, but his eyes rested on the door to the silo which was slightly ajar. Dean's heart pounded as he gathered his weapons and supplies and approached the door, prepared to kill anything that attacked him.

He pushed the heavy door open to reveal foggy predawn light. He stepped out quickly and kept his back to the silo as he scanned the area for any sign of danger. That was when he saw him. He was standing stock still at the edge of the field with his back to Dean. Dean steeled himself against what he was certain to face once he approached the thing that had been Cas. He let out a shaky breath as he scanned the area once more for any other threats then started to carefully walk toward Cas.

Castiel didn't move as Dean approached him with his gun leveled. He continued to stare out over the field toward the horizon. The sun was just breaking the line of trees in the distance, and in the pale light Dean got a look at Cas' right arm. It was completely healed, no blood or wounds on it. Dean stumbled slightly when he saw the clean healthy flesh, and he couldn't stop himself from murmuring aloud. “Am I dreaming?”

Cas didn't turn away from the blues and pinks of the dawn sky. He didn't look at Dean's amazed face. “I told you I wouldn't leave you if I didn't have to,” his voice was a pensive grumble.

“But how?”

“There's nothing left, Dean. No remnants of what I once was, no quiet pulse of Grace deep in my bones. I didn't think it would even be enough,” Cas said as he flexed his healed arm as though getting used to the feel of it.

Dean let the weight of Cas' words penetrate the tired haze of his mind. He'd begged Cas to stay last night, to forsake death and remain in this hell with him, because he couldn't bear to lose another friend. Dean swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat as he stood next to Cas. He took the other man's hand in his own when Cas flexed it again.

“I chose this Dean. Don't think you chose this for me,” Cas said as he finally looked over into Dean's eyes which showed the relief and pain and burden that churned inside of him. “We should probably head back to the compound before they get suspicious,” he noted as he stepped back from the field that was painted in the hazy gold of the morning light. Dean nodded, and they walked to the jeep with their hands still clasped.

***

They were met with suspicion and an invasive body search when they arrived back at the camp nearly twenty-four hours after leaving it. David was with them in the main cabin as they proved that neither of them had been compromised. “Look, man. We hit a nasty tangle of croats as we were getting out of the station. Cas mowed down a bunch of them as we made a run for it. Then we had to lay low in some closet until we could sneak back to the car,” Dean explained as both he and Cas were man handled by a couple other members of the camp.

“Why should I believe you?” David asked darkly as the guy who had been inspecting Dean gave him the thumbs up. “You were going for an entire day. Maybe you're conspiring—”

“You're the one that sent us into that mess, knowing full well that it was crawling with croats. Don't accuse me of lying when knew exactly what we'd face,” Dean shouted at the man as he pulled his t-shirt back on.

Cas stood firmly with with disapproving eyes as David scrutinized them both. He kicked his duffel bag forward when the second man stepped away from him with a nod. “Your weapons. They will not do you much good if you continue to run suicide missions instead of actually planning and executing missions with proper manpower and direction. You do not trust us, but after yesterday's events I wonder if it is you who is untrustworthy,” Cas said coldly. Then without waiting for a reply or dismissal, he turned and walked out of the cabin toward the one he shared with Dean.

Dean smirked at David's surprised expression. “I think you pissed him off,” he said with a mirthless laugh then followed Cas out after dropping his duffel beside the other.

Dean found Cas sitting cross-legged in the center of their bed, surrounded by knickknacks that Cas had found all over the world while he still had wings with which to fly. He didn't say anything as Dean crawled onto the bed beside him. He sank into Dean's embraced when he wrapped his arms around Cas from behind.

“It aches,” Cas admitted after several minutes of playing with the new skin on his arm.

“The wound? Are you sure you got it all?” Dean asked almost meekly as he squeezed Cas tighter.

“No, the virus is gone. _Everything_ aches. Like if you broke a bone and felt pain in it when it rains. I can feel the absence of my Grace deep in my bones, and it aches,” Cas explained as he took to rubbing Dean's arms instead of his own. He wouldn't tell Dean that it was far more agonizing than his analogy. It felt as though he had cut off a limb and was slowly watching his life force bleed out, but he couldn't burden Dean with that knowledge. That didn't mean that Dean couldn't hear the truth in Cas' words. Dean pressed his forehead to the nape of Cas' neck.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Dean broke through their thoughts. “Cas? Just for the record, we're never letting them interrupt morning sex again for some suicide mission,” Dean said firmly, and he felt more than heard Cas' laughter.

“Of course, Dean. Sex is the top priority,” Cas said with a hint of mocking in his words, though there was an underlying warmth to them.

“Damn right it is,” Dean retorted as he bit playful at Castiel's neck.

That was the last they ever spoke of what had happened aloud. However, their eyes shared the knowledge of the pain and sacrifice Cas had endured. It was obvious every time he spent the afternoon sleeping because he felt drained.

Dean went on the next supply run with a larger group, but Cas stayed behind. Cas woke from a nap to find a prescription bottle laying on the pillow beside his. He read the label and found it was Vicodin. He smiled sadly as he twisted open the bottle and popped one of the pills. He laid back against his pillow again until he started to feel the ache recede. Dean came back with dinner for them to find Cas lying in bed silently staring at the ceiling.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said softly before Dean could back out of the cabin to leave him to rest. Dean didn't say anything as he walked to the bed, put their bowls on the bedside table, and joined Cas in the covers. They didn't speak, but there was no need for words.

They never reopened the wound that rested under both of their skins. They didn't bring it up as Cas became more and more dependent on the Vicodin, or when he moved on to alcohol and a cocktail of drugs. Cas was always there when he needed to be, and he watched Dean's back without misstep. They didn't talk about it as Dean became more and more hardened to the world, or when he started pushing away everything he had feelings for. They didn't talk about it when Dean started sleeping in Dave's tent after the man died in a run gone bad. They didn't even talk about it when they were visited by Dean's past self.

Maybe Dean had to turn away when his former self asked him how he could send Cas to his death, but his former self didn't need to know that Dean was fixing a mistake. He didn't need to know that if there was any chance that Dean wasn't going to survive, that he couldn't die knowing he'd left Cas behind. He didn't need to know the full weight of his future sins, because somethings just couldn't be spoken aloud, could only be said with broken smiles and weary glances.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. You can always find me on Tumblr under the username jinxedambitions.


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